


Crushing Fear and regret

by FrostyGrl101



Category: Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Claustrophobia, Dark Aunt May, F/M, Panic Attacks, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Self-Harm, Suicidal Thoughts, Suicide Attempts, Tony Stark Has A Heart
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-21
Updated: 2018-05-01
Packaged: 2019-04-25 18:40:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 6
Words: 2,988
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14384730
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FrostyGrl101/pseuds/FrostyGrl101
Summary: Ten months since Mr Stark had contacted him.10 months of abuse,Fear,Pain.Can anyone save Peter before it’s too late, before he decides to save himself.





	1. Peters pain

Peters POV

It’s been hard, the constant crushing fear that the walls are going to collapse, that the supports are going to fall, everything puts me on edge. My senses have been going overdrive making me constantly queasy and sometimes ill, but I’m fine, I always am, I have to be.  
I know that the my expectation of myself is unrealistic, but I have always carried the shame and guilt, those little nagging voices in my head, telling me I'm worthless, pitiful, sad. They say depression and guilt is common among heroes so who am I to complain about life, but I sometimes wonder if being scared of every move, every mean look, every breath is normal. But I push through, I always do, I'm Spiderman.

10 months, that’s how long it’s been since Mr. Stark has contacted me, I gave up contacting Happy after the 1st. During those months I’ve only been doing my homework, patrol and school, everything else is secondary to me. Ned my “guy in the chair” (sarcasm heavy there), has all but replaced me with this dude called Zachary “Zach” Jenkin, I gave up caring.

May didn’t take to finding me in my Spiderman suit all that well, she sees me as and animal, nothing more than an inconvenience. But so what if she became a little more violent, yelled more and started drinking, I gave up caring.


	2. Texting

LINEBREAKLINEBREAKLINEBREAKLINEBREAK  
Peters POV   
8:50pm: 'hey Happy I kinda have a huge problem'  
Well more like catastrophic problem, May found out about me being Spiderman, she's not happy (no pun intended)  
8:53pm: ‘kid I really don't care..’  
8:53pm: ‘I have more important things to do..’

Yeeeeeeeesh rude much, but I honestly don't know why I would expect anything else, I guess I can deal with may by my self...

 

SLAM!!!!

 

jumping at the sudden noise I turn, expecting to find an intruder, only to find an extremely drunk may. I know I shouldn't be, but for once i'm Scared, not the being crushed by a building scared, but that awful foreboding fear clenching my gut making my stomach churn.  
"YOU ARE AN UNGRATEFUL LITTLE BASTARD, YOU LITTLE S*** YOU ARE A PATHETIC FREAK, A DISGUSTING ANIMAL, I REALISE NOW THAT YOU'RE THE REASON MY HUSBAND IS DEAD. SO THIS IS HOW IT'S GONNA BE, YOU GET THREE TEENAGE MEALS A DAY YOU STAY OUT OF MY WAY AND OUT OF MY SIGHT AND I WON'T HAVE TO HURT YOU"  
What followed next was a blur to me, a blur of hands, glass and pain.

LINEBREAKLINEBREAKLINEBREAKLINEBREAK.

I wake up the next morning to harsh lights, looking at my clock I realise that I'm late for school "shit", yelling I get up quickly, too quickly. My stomach turns uncomfortably, running out of my room to the toilet I heave up whatever food I had in my stomach, the taste of acid burning my tongue and the smell of dry blood becoming quickly overbearing, I don't know how long I sit on the floor heaving but I know somewhere in the back of my mind that this would be a common occurrence in the coming months.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I started writing these stories on other websites a week ago, I will try to updade every few days.


	3. The sky is falling down

PETERS POV

Constant movement, shifting, the tiniest creak of the ceiling, everything puts me on edge. One moment i’m at school and the next moment i’m back there, darkness, cold hard metal, no air  
The feeling of being constantly overwhelmed was not new, but much more severe in the aftermath of the vulture. But i’m Spiderman, I can get through it.  
I remember it clearly, too clearly, it haunts me. Its in my dream, following me all day, in class, at home. They say that sleep is an escape from reality, for me it’s a prison. In feel a crushing weight on my shoulders, the cool metal pressing into my back, the dust entering my airway, my throat constricting. Just getting by now is hard, it’s been almost a month since May found out, my body is constantly screaming at me, to heal, to feed it.   
But I can’t, I no longer have the privilege of full meals, no longer have a healing factor, but New York need Spiderman, so what if Peter Parker is suffering.

Third person POV  
Michelle was a curious person by nature, so naturally when she saw Peter freaking out over a small bang from the science lab upstairs, she had to investigate.  
Going closer to him she noted his erratic breathing, blown pupils and obvious distress. Grabbing his arm and ignoring his flinch, she dragged him to an empty room.  
“Peter” no response.  
“Pete, what’s going on with you” looking down Peter tried to stutter out a reply, but his rebellious mouth only let out a heartbreaking sob.  
Curling in on himself he started crying, breaths coming out in short gasps, fingernails digging into his skin. “Peter” Mj breathed, wrapping him up in her arms. It broke her heart listening to his sobs. Rubbing his back soothingly, she whispered little nothing into his ear hoping to calm him down.  
About 10 minutes past and Peter started to calm down, breaths evening out and his body losing its tenseness.  
“Pete” spoke Mj softly “can you please tell me what’s up with you.   
“I..I can’t Mj I’m sorry, I just c..can’t” Peter replied hoarsely.  
“Ok, but I’m here to listen if you need it” the sincerity in her voice was obvious.

Peters POV  
I let Mj walk me to the boys toilets, and watch as she goes to the end of lunch. Looking around I see no one, and allow myself to break down. I want to tell someone, I really do, but I fear that no one will understand, or care. Mr Stark was probably the only one who would understand me, but he doesn’t care, and I can’t expect him to.  
I’m just Peter Parker, pathetic little me, I’m not worth anyone time, especially his


	4. Panic

‘Today has been terrible, I totally freaked out in front of Michelle’ Peter thought as he made his way home. That day had been terrible for Peter, he had been kept up all night scared of the terrors in his dream, and no thanks to the injuries either. He tried to think about why he freaked so bad about a simple chemical explosion above him however he couldn’t figure anything out, actually come to think of it, he couldn’t think at all.   
‘Monday’s suck’ he thought glumly, over the grumbling of his stomach. He hasn’t eaten in 3 days.   
Stirring in his misery he failed to notice someone come up behind him, until they grabbed both of his shoulders.

Peters POV  
In an instant I remembered, the big green eyes, mechanical claws sinking into my shoulders and the eyes… so cold, like metal, like the building. I can’t breath ‘help’ I mutter, but no one hears me. I feel cold rush over me, cold, like water, drowning, green eyes. I feel myself sinking to the floor, no, the bottom of the harbour. Ice cold as I struggle to hold my breath. I faintly hear my name being called, but that’s impossible, I’m not worth saving, and no one can save me now. I feel the air start to leave me, but the voice doesn’t relent.  
‘Peter!’ Impossible.

‘Peter!!’ No one can save me.

‘Pete!!!!!’   
Jolting up I gasp as air makes it back into my lungs, blindly I reach out my hand hoping to ground myself, breaths coming out short and sharp. Numbly I feel a cold calloused hand grasp mine, ‘warm’ I think, I don’t dare open my eyes yet. ‘Pete’ there’s the voice again, it sounds strangely familiar.  
‘Peter, underoos, I need you to open your eyes for me’  
Mr Stark, I realise with a jolt ‘that’s it kid’ I realise that I must have said that out loud. Opening my eyes, I come face to face with the warm and concerned eyes of Ton.. no Mr Stark.  
Shit………


	5. Bolt

Peter new that as soon as he saw those warm chocolate eyes filled with kindness, that he had some explaining to do.

Peter knew however, that what he says could impact lots of people and he'd be damned if he made May suffer more than he already has. It's his fault after all, uncle ben's death, the vulture and Liz, everyone he touches gets hurt.

As he searches those eyes he finds nothing but confusion and worry, it confuses him. Mr Stark doesn't care. Right? He's only pathetic Penis Parker, geek extraordinaire and disgusting little freak.

"Peter" Tony murmurs quietly, "what's going on buddy".

Great, how was he going to explain that away, he wants to say 'everything Mr Stark, I have these freaky panic attacks and I constantly feel like the world is going to come down on top of me, Aunt May now hates every fibre of my being, I'm not worth anyone's time especially yours and the only person that cares about me is Mj and I'll probably just end up hurting her'.

Tony gasps whole body trembling, and slowly got up and backed away from Peter, horrified. 'Shit' Peter thinks as he realises that he just said that all out loud.

Thinking quickly of any possible escape he realises that it's a wide space area, and he makes a break for it.

"Peter!" Tony yells unashamed that his voice cracks. Still unable to fathom what he just heard, he can only watch stunted as the boy who was wronged so many times, runs away.

Peter arrives at his house with a bang, quite literally, door clashing loudly with the wall and echoing throughout the apartment. Looking around at what had become his 'home' he notes the changes in the place, no food or drinks lying around, everything clean giving the room an eerie aura, none of his things or photos lying around and almost no sign that he lives there.

As he walks to his room he can't seem to shake the feeling that he just made a mistake in running away. He realises with a jolt, that Mr Stark can just come to his apartment whenever he pleases, but quickly abandons the thought, Mr Stark has never cared for him. He never will.

Lying down in bed, his sore muscles relax somewhat. The only place he feels at home now is in his room. Gazing out the window he spots a flock of birds in the distance.

He let a quaint smile pull at his lips, oh how he wished he were like the birds, free to fly, or in his case swing, through the air. So free. So happy. Until someone kills them, he thought eyes darkening and face blanking. He found it so hard to feel these days, the only time he feels is when he is in pain.

His hands itched as he thought of pain, suffering, but not to someone else...

To himself.

Mind blank but resolute, he got up off the bed and trailed his way down to the kitchen. 'so this is what my life has come to' he thought only half bitterly. Truly he new that he deserved this and the thought of hurting himself was only for self-assurance that he is still alive.

*Warning: self-harm, if this triggers you DO NOT READ*

Picking up a small but sharp knife, he brought it up to his face. The steel glistened in the evening light, gazing at it he saw a part of his refection on the knife. 'just like in that warehouse' he though bitterly. Bringing the knife down to his skin, he began gently pressing it into the soft skin just below his left wrist. Hissing slightly at the white-hot pain, he marvelled at the fact that the pain felt so comforting, so right. Feeling the sudden urge to press deeper, he entertained the idea, watching as blood began bubbling to the surface and slowly trailing down his arm and dripping onto the floor, creating slight swirls on the pristine white marble tiles.

Smiling bitterly, he began to trail the knife down his arm, watching in satisfaction as the skin began to split, showing cut flesh and more blood.

As Peter was about to put the knife away he suddenly thought that maybe he should end it. All the pain and suffering could go, no one would care, it could all be over. Set with grim determination, he lifted the knife back up to his wrist and was about to finish it when...

*Knock, Knock, Knock*

What?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thankyou everyone for reading, I will be taking suggestions for who you want to save Peter or watch his end. Anyone from the Marvel universe is okay.  
> Please review, comment or PM me your suggestions, the more I get the sooner I can write.....  
> Until next time  
> FrostyGrl101  
> *also feel free to write any prompts of one-shots that you would like to see, I will make the time*


	6. Why?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is the final chapter, however if anyone has any prompts or ideas that they want me to write I can put it in this story or a separate one-shot.

Peter jolted at the knock on the door, pulling himself out of the dark abyss that was his mind. His fore thought was ‘who the heck is at my door’, dismissing the thought at his sudden panic. The realisation hit him a like a tidal wave, he was on the floor surrounded by a pool of his own blood, sharp cuts with a constant flow of blood littering his arms, his wrist displaying a jagged wound. 

“Just a minute” he yells, fear gnawing at his heart, ebbing thorough his bones like a cascade of icy water.  
Yanking a tea towel from the stove top, he hurriedly presses it to his arms in the fruitless hope of stemming the blood flow.  
Only stopping what he is doing when he hears a concerned voice call out worriedly “Peter are you in there?, I was just coming to check up on you, see if you were all right.” 

If he hadn’t been so overwhelmed with dread Peter might have just snorted at the fact, ‘who does mr Stark think he is, walks out of my life and just waltzes right on back after 10 months asking if I’m okay. However Peter was too overwhelmed to even think, just content to merely sink to the floor and start sobbing.

I’m a freak, he thinks bitterly, a worthless little freak who can’t get anything right, who can’t even end himself right. Distantly he can hear the sound of a door being picked open, but paying no mind he continues to stew in his endless expanse of self-hate. Harsh cries wracked his body and he felt the hot tears roll down his face in fat droplets, the pain of his cuts was long since gone.  
He just sat watching the blood swirl beneath his feet, mixing with his tears, creating a nauseating pink pattern. He stares at the knife longingly as he picks it back up, if only it could all end. Finish. No more pain. No more suffering.  
Peter slips his eyes shut as he curls up in on himself, falling to the floor in a tight ball. 

TONY POV:  
I panic as I make it to the door. When I first met Peter all those months ago, he was an exuberant young boy, his warm brown eyes full of light, his laugh like sof bells to the ears of anyone who hears him.  
The boy I saw on the sidewalk was but a shadow of his former self to me. At first it doesn’t register in my mind when I touch him that he was having a panic attack, but I could only watch, heart breaking as the boy I wronged suffered through something that no one should have to go through. 

Knocking on the door, I can only hope that Peter is home, I know from personal experience that shutting yourself out makes things worse. But he hates me, he must, I abandoned him, betrayed his trust. I have no idea what is going on between him and May, but I know that it’s bad.  
I hear Peter reply, but something sounds wrong, off, it sounds like he is panicking. Fear overcomes me and my mind immediately starts thinking of the worst, hostage, gunpoint and everything in between. I shove my hands in my pockets, scouring for something useful and coming up with a bobby pin. Perfect.

Picking the lock expertly ‘hah I told Rhodey that those lessons from Natasha would come in handy one day’, I step into the house but I never could have prepared my mind for what I saw. 

My body paralysed in shock, I subconsciously take in Peters features, everything from his gaunt face and sunken in cheeks to the ribs poking beneath his skin. I observe the bruised skin, and the hand shaped marks on his face but it’s the cuts that freeze my blood. “good god kid” I manage to stutter out, internally panicking because the knife is right there in his hands and there is some much blood. So much, somuchsomuchsomuchsomuch.

Stumbling, I put my arms around him, desperately grabbing and never letting go, not again, not ever.

NORMAL POV

Peter let himself fall apart in the comfort of his mentors arms, crying till he could no longer. He had nothing left to cry. He knew what Tony would want and it hurt his heart thinking about the guilt that his mentor will feel. With one last strangled “i’m Sorry Tony” Peter gripped his knife and brought it down straight through his wrist.  
The squelch of skin ripping and the crack of bones breaking echoed through the room. Blood started gushing more fervently out of the wound, and Peter swayed, collapsing in Tony’s arms.

He died with a smile on his face, and Tony would never forgive himself. For this is the fate of the boy who was too prescious for this world, seemingly too innocent. 

The medics couldn’t save him, and the superhero community mourned. Ned and Mj were broken, Mj the most of all. May, she regretted nothing even as the police hauled her into a holding cell in jail. Happy and Pepper mourned, one with regret and one with anguish.

But Tony was never the same, and if Pepper walked in on him in the same position as Peter had been weeks before, then it is purely a coincidence...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope everyone enjoyed the story, feel free to comment on any ideas you have for a storyline or just a chapter that you want written.


End file.
